Page 41 of Sever
Chapter Nineteen
Tracker
I slam my phone down on the bar.
“Where's the fire, brother?” Storm looks over at me from his stool, draining his beer and signaling to one of the girls for another.
“Megan left me a message that her car had a flat. I’ve called her back five fucking times but she isn’t answering. Colt was in town so I asked him to drive by. He said her car is there, but she isn’t, and I’ve got this feeling I can’t shake.” I pace the floor, not knowing what to do next.
“Why don’t you have the IT guy see if he can trace her phone. What’s his name? Wrench, is it?” Storm nods toward where the brothers’ rooms are.
“All right, I’ll start there.” I walk toward his room. I’m not a guy prone to panicking, but I just got her back—I can’t lose her again.
I knock on the door but there’s no answer.
“Tracker.” I turn to see Cutter walking toward me. “Wrench is out on a run. You need something?”
Of course, he is. I tell Cutter about what's going on. “I don't know what to do at this point. I need to find her.” The sharp pain in my chest only becomes stronger. It feels like I have a knife stuck in me and with each minute someone twists it further and further.
My phone rings and I tug it out of my back pocket. “Megan?”
“Nope, just me,” Chrissy answers, the clattering of dishes in the background. My heart sinks. “When are you guys gonna be back? I was gonna order some food.”
“Have you talked to Megan at all today?” I blurt out, heading back down the corridor toward my bike.
The line goes quiet. “Um, no. Everything okay?”
“I don’t know where she is. I can’t say for sure, but I think something happened.”
I hate admitting that I’m helpless. That something could be wrong and all I can do is stand here. When Megan and I were together before, I could always tell that something was wrong. It was a sinking feeling in my gut, and I was always right.
That feeling is stronger than ever right now.
“I can track her phone if you want.”
I stop in my tracks. “You can do that?”
“It’s this app we have, ‘Find My Friends.’ We downloaded it in college after a safety seminar. Let me pull it up and I’ll text you where she is.”
“That would be great, thanks, Chrissy.”
“Can you just keep me updated?” Her voice has a small tremble in it.
“No problem.” I hang up and stare at my phone until I get a text.
Chrissy: It doesn’t give me an exact address but it looks like the phone is around Oak and Maple Street.
I tap the address into my phone. Half an hour away.
“I got a location on her,” I call to Cutter. “I’m gonna go check it out.”
“I’m gonna come with you. Storm.” Storm looks up. “Get your bike and come with.” The large biker doesn’t question the order, just hops down from his stool and pulls out his keys. Cutter turns to me, his hand coming to squeeze my shoulder. “Not saying there’ll be trouble, but there’s no telling what the hell we’ll find. Better to be prepared.”
We head out, and as the wind whips my face, the roar of my engine ringing in my ears, all I can pray for is that Megan is okay. She has to be. I keep racking my brain, trying to figure out what could have happened. There isn’t anything going on with the club right now that would put her in danger, and in the four months I’ve spent getting to know her again, I’ve realized she doesn’t have any enemies.
Everything inside of me is hoping that I'm overreacting; that I'll get to her and nothing will be wrong.
My gut tells me I'm kidding myself.
